


By the skin of their teeth

by Longcat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Intel makes for bad hunts, But when you have a monster for a friend, Hunt, Hunters, Picture, Shaman - Freeform, Spirit Guide, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7568410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Longcat/pseuds/Longcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lore and BearHawk are on a vampire hunt gone bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By the skin of their teeth

It wasn't often that they found themselves removing a nest of vampires. Most cases they took were simple salt’n’burns or dealt with unusual spirits. Not that they couldn't hold their own against the blood suckers. It was just far easier to deal with disturbances from the spirit realm as a shaman than to try fighting vamps with magic.

Intel told them it was a small den, only four or five of them. But when was their intel ever reliable? Well there was Garth, he helped where he could, he had a soft spot for the pair of them. Kind of a monster code, if there was such a thing. But Garth wasn't the one who had directed this case into their laps. It was something they had found themselves and couldn't get any other hunters to check on it.

“Damn it! That's four already.” Lore bitched as he tried to unlodge his machete from the support beam. A decapitated figure sat slumped the base of the post.

Growls and clicks were the only response he got from his companion.

“Yeah, well I only prepared so many hex bags! Wasn't planning for a run on vamps. I think we're facing double what we planned.” The machete popped free and the force caused him to stumble backwards. BearHawk laughed at his misfortune, earning him a dagger eyed glare. “Laugh it up fuzzball. You're going to be taking down most of the rest.”

The monster quieted and readjusted his grip on his own machete. Thick paws tightening on the leather bound handle. His talons clacked on the concrete floor of the old saw mill, it had been abandoned for years after a fire had started.

Right on the edge of town, it made for a perfect nest site. Rumors had spread that the place was haunted and bold or stupid teens would dare each other to explore the broken building. For the vampires it was easy, their food came to them. But the increase in disappearances caught the attention of hunters. And that's how Lore and BearHawk found themselves in this mess.

“I was thinking-” Lore was interrupted by sarcastic grunts and growls. “I was thinking.” He continued, ignoring the comments from his partner. “We should split up, cover more of this dump, gank those vamps quicker.”

“Kreee-aggh.”

“Yeah, it’s a dumb idea. But I don't see you coming up with anything better. We need to kill the nest. The whole nest.” he ran bloodied fingers through his hair nervously. He got a nod in agreement and his spirit guide left him to hunt down vampires on his own.

Strange noises came with the territory of old abandoned buildings. He had to tune out the sounds that weren't a threat, including the wind and creaking. If he had the time he could put together a spell or a ritual to help track them, but at this point they were down to the wire. Still he checked that his silver ritual blade was easy to grab if he needed.

Turning the corner to another part of the saw mill, Lore nearly slipped in the sawdust and ash that coated the floor. Other footprints were visible in the layers, some older than others, but most of them created a worn path. He smiled to himself for tracking the vampires so easily. He passed through the doorway at the end of the worn path through the dust, too late for warning bells to go off in his head, he was sucker punched and thrown across the room, machete flying out of his reach.

“Well well, what do we have here? A hunter is now the hunted.” The vampire grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up. Lore tried reaching for his ceremonial dagger but his hand was caught. “What do you think you’re doing? Silver? Don’t you know that won’t do anything to us?” The vampire held the fine blade up inspecting it, his grip tightening on the hunter’s wrist.

“That’s not the point Ugly. Give me back my blade and I’ll show you the point.” Lore spat at his captor. He was angry at being caught, he had slipped up and now he was in trouble. It was his plan to separate and now it was biting him in the ass, and possibly in the neck.

“And let you try to kill me? I don’t think so.”

“You said it yourself, that tiny thing won’t do anything to you.” He grinned up at the vampire, a manic gleam to his eyes. He hoped he could bluff him into giving him his blade back, a couple of runes and incantations floating to the surface of his thoughts. If he could just get his blade. He was caught off guard by the vampire’s fist connecting with his face, his head snapping back.

“Not gonna fly witch. I’ve seen the hexbag that wasted one of my friends. And we're going to drain your familiar when he shows his face.” The vampire snarled, sharp jagged teeth showing. Lore took advantage of their proximity and slammed his head into the vampire’s face. His head was still ringing from the punch so he figured a full contact headbutt wouldn’t add too much to the already developing headache.

“I’m not a witch.” Lore growled as he slipped out of the grip of the vampire. He knew he should be running or at least calling for help, but he was angry now. The vampire had his ceremonial dagger, he had gotten a shiner, he had fallen into an obvious trap, and now his spirit guide was being threatened.

He made a run across the room and slid to grab the machete. He got to his knees ready to get up and fight back when a fist connected above his eyebrow, cutting into his flesh.

“I hate playing games with my food.”

“I won't be food you toothy fucker.” Lore flipped him the middle finger. “Not today, not ever.”

A screeching howl echoed in the large open space of the warehouse. Lore grinned up at the vampire as the heavy sound of wings descended on them. Metal sliced clean through the vampire's neck. Beady eyes in a furry face sparkled down at him.

“Kikikiii. Grrawk. Mrrroogh.”

“Yeah thanks buddy, I owe you. So you got two others? That puts the nest at seven. I really hate vampires.” With the help of an outstretched paw he stood up and gave the decapitated head a kick. “Let’s get out of here BearHawk.” He nodded to the exit, picking up his silver blade along the way.

“Gaargh. Raaargh.”

“What do you mean I've got blood in my mohawk?”

 


End file.
